Why do you hate me?
by forbidenlotus
Summary: Doctor McCoy contemplates a question Spock poses to him during a heated argument.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own star trek. However, i promise i wont screw it up more then some other people :-).

**Why do you hate me? **

"Doctor, why do you hate me?"

The question stopped me mid-sentence as all the rage which had only momentarily ago fueled my indignant fire rush out of me. The Vulcan in front of me continued to regard my slack jawed stare with the same cold indifference he had adopted when our heated argument began. Still, his question lingered between us like foul air. _ Doctor, why do you hate me? _ I was stunned.

Meanwhile, around us the bridge had fallen silent. Sulu and Chekov's earlier debate on the best shore leave hot spots had been abruptly abandoned. Both young men seem engrossed in their silent boards. Uhura had stopped humming and appeared to be studying the chipped polish on her long nails, a small frown pulling on the corner of her lips. No one was looking at in our direction, but I know that they were listening for an answer. I did not have one to give.

Jim must have sensed my predicament, hell the whole bridge could, because he tactfully chose that moment to cut in with his customary 'Gentlemen, that will be enough' and just like that Spock turned back to his sensors as if we had been discussing taxes or something. Still, the question remained engraved in my brain._ Why do you hate me?_

I hate you? Is that what you really think? Well, you're wrong. Once again you wrapped that brilliant alien brain around the problem only to come up with the wrong solution. Turns out human emotion is never black and white. Especially when the emotion come from someone is old and stubborn as me. And especially when it involves someone is cold and stubborn as you. Yes, stubborn. I know that you would object to such an emotional adjective to describe your precious logical continents but that is exactly what you are. Stubborn, pigheaded, and aggravatingly simple. But you are also one of the only reliable anchors I have on this blasted ship.

Does that surprise you? That the irrational illogical doctor who can't seem to even stand being in the same room with you for a long period of time wouldn't be able to stand living on this ship if you were not by my side. I think it does. If it was Jim, you would not think twice about it. Your always by his side, even when he is hundred of miles away you are together. I have always envied Jim for that.

I bet that confuses the hell out of you too. I'll admit it did me at first. I mean, what the hell did I

have to be jealous about anyway. After all, Jim and I are arguably just as close as he is to you, and I have a wide assortment of other friendships on board which while they might not reach the depth of said relationship were still amazingly satisfactory to use a analysis you might understand. But it wasn't enough. Even surrounded by hordes of friends on the bridge, I couldn't help but feel the slight sting of jealousy every time I saw you step up close and lay a hand on the captain's shoulders.

I know. I shouldn't compare our two relationships. They are as different as apples and oranges, but I can't help it. Unlike you, I'm only human, bound by human emotions. For us, its completely natural to compare, over analyze, worry, and even fret over figments of our imaginations. I couldn't help but feel a little left out. Why can't it be me? Why can't I be the one you confide in, the one who you cherish beyond all the others. Why can't I be the one you rely on. Why is it Jim? I mean, I know we have our differences. Hell, even the newest ensign on this ship has heard of our almost legendary squabbles. Why is it that all we do is fight? I like you. I truly do. Your one of the most gentle, intelligent, thoughtful beings I have ever met. If it wasn't for your Vulcan upbringing I believe we would have been to closest of friend.

Before you say anything, I don't mean the above comment in a bigoted way. Quite frankly, I don't care where a person is born. In this enlightenment age, one would have to be practically insane to still hold fast to the age old ignorance that was bigotry. No, I'm not talking about your birth place or it's traditions. I'm talking about that arrogant, know it all, superior attitude that you variably ooze when dealing with me. Now if you were truly a conceded ass, it would not have bothered me so much. As a doctor, I have to deal with a whole array of different people. We would not have been friends but I would have been able to maintain a professional attitude around you.

But that isn't who you are? True, when I first met you I was convinced you were the iciest bastard that was ever born. However, after knowing you for awhile, I realized some things about you. You're not as cold as you would like to appear. Actually, you can be quite kind when you don't let your ego get in the way. I have seen you sit for hours at the Captain's bedside and even have woken up to find you sitting at mine occasionally. To your coworkers, you are fiercely loyal. You would bend over backwards, even put your life in danger for anyone aboard this ship whether they like you or not. Despite their devotion, not many people on this ship have that dedication. I have always had a deep respect for you for that.

And if that was not enough to make you into a ideal friend, you're smart. Almost scary smart. Sometimes, watching your brain at work is enough to blow my mind. You can work out complex equations in a minute, remember the name of even the lowest ranked ensign on board. Hell, sometimes I am convinced you could take this ship apart down to the last microchip and put it all back together yourself.

My point is your an wonderful insightful person who anyone would be privileged to know, until you let that Vulcan bred ego get in the way. Maybe that is what fuels my annoyance. I know how great you are and it frustrates me to see you hiding behind your mask. You undermine your own intelligent and authority. Anyone who gets close, you scare off with your icy attitude. You have all the personality traits of a child who was abused much to often, not physically but mentally, and though you have managed to remove yourself from the environment, you still let your old habits and defenses bar you from the great friendships that have been offered to you.

No, I don't hate you Spock. I hate that facade of yours, the ugly little shroud covering the amazing individual underneath. The individual I admire; the individual I am proud to call my friend. I suppose I'm just furious to see you hide him away like you do. I want to be able to show that side of you off. I want people to love and accept you for the same reasons I do. I want to be the one to finally see you settle comfortably in your skin. That is way I torture you. Dont you see that?

I sighed heavily as I watched the others on the bridge turn back to their stations, forgetting about the awkward silence that had followed your question. Even you were engrossed in your work, a placid half smile playing on your face as if our argument had never occurred. I wanted to go over to you and apologize for my unkind words, apologize in general for my way of handling you. But then you look up and turn to look at me. Our eyes met and for a moment we just looked at each other. Then, your lips quirked upwards in that characteristic not-smile that only you seemed able to posses and you nodded at me. I knew that you had forgiven me and I could not help but smile back. After all, our relationship wasn't perfect, but if I was truly honest with myself, I think I would realize what I hope you realized. It may bot be perfect, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.


End file.
